Race Relations Commissioner Meng Foon, who stars in a new documentary screening on Whakaata Māori. Photo / Phil Yeo
THE VIEW FROM MY WINDOW
Taika Waititi was right, says Race Relations Commissioner Meng Foon — New Zealand is as racist as f***. The son of Chinese market gardeners, and a fluent te reo speaker, he believes it will take courage for that to change. As told to Joanna Wane
I'm a bit rough at the edges, I know. My wife tries to tell me I need to be more diplomatic but I can't be bothered with that. I firmly believe that human rights are at the core of equality and equity in society. Some people haven't gotten to understand that yet.
My parents taught us to work hard, keep our heads down and not embarrass anybody. You're supposed to be a quiet, unassuming person and just get on with life. Buy a house, get married, have children. They weren't very supportive at all when I first stood for council [Foon spent 18 years as the mayor of Gisborne before stepping down in 2019]. They were afraid I was going to stick my head out of the sand and not be a "normal" Chinese person, as they saw it. They were quite right.
There's a little bit of politics in the mayor's job, you've got to get people on side. This role as Race Relations Commissioner is more of a psychological game. It takes a bit of bravery. You have to speak out for the rights of people who've been abused, and sometimes you need to front up to the perpetrators and ask, "Why do you say these things? What's brought this on for you?"
Racism here is often covert. We can be silent assassins sometimes. But that accumulation of microaggressions builds up over the years and then people suddenly explode or implode within themselves. When you start to look more closely, gosh, Taika is quite right, New Zealand is as racist as f***. I think it's intergenerational. These things are taught. I mean, no one is born like that. It's very emotional and it can be very intense. You have to not carry these things home, because they can burn you inside.
I've lived in Gisborne my whole 63 years. Our family has always been working with the land, and when you grow and sell vegetables, you create a very intimate relationship with the wider community. When I was young, we lived at Matawhero, where our gardens were, in what's called a tiny home now. There was a lean-to and we cooked outside. When Mum and Dad built a new house opposite it, they used the tiny home for storage.
My wife [Ying] and I moved into this house six years ago. It's on the old Cook Hospital site, looking out over a wide expanse of the city: the rural areas of the Turanga flats, the white cliffs of Te Kurī-a-Pāoa [Young Nick's Head] and, on a fine day, Mahia. We can see the Rocket Lab launches from our place. My friend and I actually bought this hill off the Gisborne District Council and developed it back in 1994. Now we're living here.
In politics, you need to have a solid backbone. Every election there was some sort of conspiracy about me having lots of affairs or bribery or not paying my bills. Ying and I are very frank with each other. We don't hold any secrets or problems we might have. We let it all go and have a good barney. That's the best way, otherwise it will just cook inside.
My father's family escaped the Japanese invasion of China and they became refugees, leaving everything behind. Dad came to New Zealand in 1947. Later, the aunties in Hong Kong organised wives for a number of Chinese men who were living in Gisborne and they all flew over to meet their chosen ones. Mum and Dad married in December 1958 and I was born in August 1959, so I predict that I was actually made in Hong Kong.
There were a number of Chinese children at Mākaraka School — 30 per cent of the rugby team were Chinese boys! You had Ching Chong Chinaman jokes but we just thought they were funny. It wasn't until I brought one home to my father that he told me not to cheek myself, because I was Chinese. "Am I?" I said.
I had a real liking for the way different people sounded and started picking up some te reo from the Māori customers who came into our shop. At high school, my mother said learning it was slai jaw hii, a waste of breath. But communication is the biggest thing for anyone. If I didn't have te reo Māori, I don't think I would ever have become the mayor, nor would I have become the Race Relations Commissioner. So I think it has been everything in my kete of knowledge.
A lot of people don't understand why there is so much inequity and disparity in our communities. And if you're in a different clique or at a particular school or university, you might be reinforced in those views without having an in-depth knowledge of the history of the country, or by denying it. But most of the wealth in Aotearoa is derived from the land, whether you own a house or business or have a farm or orchard.
When Māori had 100 per cent of the land and over successive years have ended up with only 5 per cent, well, that's where the wealth has gone. You've denied a race of people not only their language and their culture to flourish, but you've also taken away the economics. When you don't have the economics, it's very difficult to participate and you struggle right through with health, education and housing.
We have some systemic issues in Aotearoa, particularly with bullying in the workplace. It's just been reported that over 35 per cent of people have experienced sexual or racial harassment or some sort of discrimination at work. Why are less than 50 per cent of our children attending school on a regular basis? There are some hard questions to be asked, but what are the key actions?
The wonderful thing in the last few years is that racism has been at the tip of our tongue in our conversations, in our debates, in our newspapers, in the government. New Zealand has 213 different ethnicities and probably 300 different dialects of languages from all over the world. So, we are a diverse community and we are all connected one way or another.
I want to create an environment where people can share their culture, speak their language, have their religious beliefs and still participate in our community without fear or favour. This local government election, I've seen more ethnic faces on the billboards than at any other time. Things are changing, yes, but the change is still slow.
A BRIDGE BETWEEN WORLDS
A bilingual documentary, "Meng: A Particular Kind of Hope", will screen on Whakaata Māori on September 12 and be available on demand at Māori+.
Co-directed by Julie Zhu and Steven Chow — both first-generation Chinese New Zealanders — it follows Foon through a tumultuous year in the wake of the Christchurch mosque shootings, from Covid lockdowns to a heated controversy over racism in the police force.
The film-makers say they were fascinated by Foon's ability to navigate multiple worlds as a tauiwi (non-Māori) who champions the rights of tangata whenua. "I'm not here to please everyone," Foon tells them. "I'm here to do the right thing."
* Community input is currently being sought for the development of a National Action Plan Against Racism. To get involved in a local workshop or have your say, visit justice.govt.nz or email endingracism@justice.govt.nz by the end of October. A draft plan will be released for feedback from the public before being finalised.
'I would fight against it. Māori have every reason to fight against it.'